


i know you, i walked with you once upon a dream

by darth_stitch



Series: A New Road Or A Secret Gate:  Bagginshield Week March 2014 Prompts [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Accidental Curses, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Animal Transformation, Bagginshield Week March 2014, Crack, Humor, M/M, Radagast Got Into the Pipeweed again, Writing Prompt Day 3 Animals & Complementary, bagginshield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 13:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1348798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darth_stitch/pseuds/darth_stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Thror, mighty King Under the Mountain, threw a grand feast to celebrate the birth of his grandson Thorin, three Wizards were invited.  Really, Radagast meant to give the little Prince a proper Gift.  The curse was a complete accident!  Written for the 3rd Day of Bagginshield Week March 2014:  Animals and Complementary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i know you, i walked with you once upon a dream

  
[ ](http://darthstitch.tumblr.com/image/80111579966)

**Animals & Complementary - Bagginshield Week Day 3 **

 

Once upon a time, because that is how the best stories start, there was a mighty King of Dwarves, who ruled over the richest and most prosperous of all the Dwarf-Kingdoms in Middle-earth.

_(There, love, I should hope that is an auspicious and accurate enough beginning.)_

His name was Thror and he was not only rich in gold and jewels, but he was also rich when it came to  _family._ His son and heir, Crown Prince Thrain, had fallen in love and married a lovely and brave Dwarrowdam who would one day make a worthy Queen.  And they soon presented the old King with a grandson and a new heir, who would be named Thorin, second of the Line of Durin to bear that name. 

Old King Thror adored his little grandson and stole him away so much that his Thrain finally had to complain about it.  “Father, he’s _my_ son - do you think you could let his _parents_ hold their baby for more than just a few moments?”

To which the response was:  “Laddie, if I weren’t afraid you’d drop the wee one on his head, _which you almost did, thank you_ _kindly_ , I’d let you!”

And wee little Thorin finally settled the matter because he was rather fond of his grandfather’s braids and wailed loudly when he couldn’t wind his tiny fist around that lock of hair. 

_(Well, love, I heard that story from the highest of authorities at the moment.  You’ll need to take this up with Balin, if you want to grumble about it.)_

Thus it was that Thror ordered a great feast to celebrate his firstborn grandson’s birth and his Name Day.  So invitations were sent far and wide and even Thranduil Elven-king of the Forest of AAAAAAAAARRRGH got his invitation (because, it would be a terrible lack of manners to fail to invite your neighboring kings, even if they are and Yavanna help me, because I am _ordered_ to include this phrase somewhere - lost a bet, long story, has nothing to do with this one - _tree-shagging Elves.)_

_(Thorin, you are NOT allowed to kiss me just because ‘tree-shagging Elves’ sounds ever so much better when I say it! I refuse to say it again — mmph!)_

Um.  Well.  Dear.  Where was I?  Oh.  So they all came - the King of Dale and his family, the King of Mirkwood, the Prince of Rohan, the heir of the Steward of Gondor, Lord Elrond of Rivendell, the Lady Galadriel, the three Wizards - all the great and mighty came to celebrate the arrival of the new Heir Under the Mountain.  And also to enjoy a good meal, because Dwarves were rather good at that sort of thing, almost as good as Hobbits!

So there were gifts given for the new little Prince and those who had Power wished upon him blessings and hopes and all sorts of Good Things. 

We might note that the Lady Galadriel was one of the very few people to coax tiny baby Thorin from his grandfather’s arms, much to Thror’s astonishment.  She smiled and said something rather strange.

"Oh my dear friend, _mellon nin_ , you _have_ been much missed.”  

And of course, _that_ surprised King Thror, but the Lady of the Golden Wood simply kissed little Thorin on his forehead and burst out laughing when the little Prince decided to wrap his fist around a lock of _her_ hair as well.  

_(Thorin, dearest, blame Balin.  Fili and Kili, if you don’t stop laughing at your poor Uncle, there will be no chocolate chip scones for you at dessert!)_

So of course, the three Wizards came to give their blessings.  Saruman the White gave a blessing that Thorin would be both fair of face and in spirit.  Gandalf the Grey made the blessing that Thorin would have the courage of his forefathers and a loving heart.  And Radagast the Brown….

Well, it was safe to say that Radagast got a bit _confused_. 

He really, _really_ meant to give Thorin a _blessing_ , not an accidental curse.  But he had just sampled this most excellent pipeweed that he claimed beat _Old_   _Toby_ from the Shire and he was eager to prove it to Gandalf and on top of that, he was a bit distracted from the _last_ visit of that most Excellent Doctor who traveled around in a Flying Blue Box and was Radagast too.  

The lesson here, of course, is that the _best pipeweed in all of Middle-earth is Old Toby._

_(Shame on you, Thorin Oakenshield, for contradicting me!)_

And so it was that Radagast the Brown, who really meant to give Thorin a gift that would help him to not forget the green and growing things of the Earth, ended up cursing him to turn into a _cat_ every full moon.

At that point in time, Little Prince Thorin made for a _very_ adorable kitten. 

And so, pandemonium erupted.  Thrain went for his sword.  Thror was about to declare war on all Wizards.  Saruman was highly affronted and Gandalf tried to be the one sane person in all this madness and keep the peace, but it was really rather difficult when one is trying to figure out a counter-spell to Radagast’s accidental curse.  Lord Elrond tried to be of assistance.  Thranduil Elven-king laughed himself sick in a corner.  The nobles of Men were simply all confused. 

And finally, the Lady Galadriel brought them all to order by saying another Very Strange Thing. 

_"It will all be made right when Prince Thorin finds and accepts his One into his heart.  I will give him a Dream of his One, so that it may help him in his quest.  But I must warn you,"_ and here she smiled mysteriously.  “ _My silly old friend may find this ‘cat-curse’ rather a good thing.”_

And so things settled down quite nicely.  And well, it wasn’t as if Thorin wouldn’t return back to being a proper Dwarf once the night of the full moon was past. 

Now things might have gone along its usual pace, Prince Thorin grew up to be a fine and handsome young Dwarf - except with the thing about the cat-curse - and we must note that as a _cat_ , he was rather a majestic and magnificent creature. 

Unfortunately, we all know the Dragon Smaug came many years later and stole Erebor from the Dwarves.  Poor old King Thror was killed by the terrible Azog the Defiler in the Battle of Azanulbizar, Prince Thrain disappeared without trace and a great many sad things happened to Prince Thorin, who was now king of a wandering and scattered people. 

Turning into a cat every full moon was a minor inconvenience at this point. 

And while Galadriel promised that Thorin would _Dream_ of his One, there were days that poor Thorin  _wished_ the Dream would go away, because it represented to him something that he thought he’d never have again.  

_Home_. 

One day, Thorin was journeying back to the Blue Mountains after a few months spent working as a blacksmith in Bree.  He was light of heart because he had enough money in his pockets for his sister and his sister-sons and a few presents for them as well. 

Except that he got a bit lost. 

Except that it was the night of the full moon.

Except that he turned into a _cat_.  Again. 

And it started to rain. 

_(I shall not make any jests here about Thorin’s sense of direction, only that I will not trust him out of my sight unless he’s being a cat or unless Kaatskill is with him.  Because, really, Thorin, how on earth could you try to make for the Blue Mountains and end up in Hobbiton? EEP!)_

Yes.  Well.  I’ll thank all of you to please ignore the Ridiculous Dwarf who’s trying to distract the Storyteller with… um…. Terrible Displays of Affection.  Just like a cat.  Um.  Just terrible.  Really. 

Somehow Thorin found his way, wet and bedraggled as he was - because, of course, even a Dwarf in his proper form would _hate_ the rain in this fashion.  He padded quietly along the winding roads until he made it to Bag Shot Row and finally found himself in front of a round, green door. 

While he couldn’t, of course, knock properly - there was nothing for it but to scratch at said door and give the most forlorn and appealing of _meows_ and hope, of course, that the presence of the Majestic Moggy Who Should Be Under His Mountain But For the Presence of a Thrice-Damned Dragon, would convince the owner to let him shelter for the night.

But when the door opened, Thorin-cat found himself staring up at the face that he had Dreamed of all his life. 

He was finally _home_. 

Now it must be said that the Hobbit who lived in Bag End, which was the smial that happened to have the green door that Thorin-cat scratched upon, was fully expecting to rescue a cat from the rain.  Bilbo Baggins, because that was the Hobbit’s name, thought that here was a lovely big fellow, who would be all better once dried and brushed and fed.  And so it was that he took the Majestic Moggy in. 

Of course, when Bilbo awoke the next morning to find a very _naked_ and we will add _handsome_ Dwarf in his parlor, that was another story altogether.  

Suffice it to say that after a good deal of embarrassed flailing and flusterment, Bilbo believed that no assaults upon his honor were to be made by said handsome Dwarf (not that they would be unwelcome, actually).  Clothes were promptly produced and we will pause for the moment and admit that someone’s arse looked very fine in a pair of Hobbit-y trousers. 

_(Your ears turn red when you blush, dearest.  It really is the most adorable thing.)_

And that, my dear Gandalf, is the story of how I met and eventually married Thorin Oakenshield, who is now a Baggins of Bag End.  He still turns into a cat every full moon, but that is now completely voluntary, as Thorin rather likes being a cat these days.  Therefore, if you want to drag my husband, his family and his friends off to defeat that awful Dragon, I am coming with you.  

And no, Thorin, I _refuse_ to stay behind and wait only to hear that you’ve gotten yourself killed or worse!

And since you _did_ say a Hobbit would be needed on this journey, I shall be that Hobbit and that’s the end of it! 

(…. _and well, while we can’t say we lived happily ever after yet, because we’re still off to face a Dragon, we can safely say that the Quest for Erebor did go off on a good start with thirteen Dwarves, one determined Hobbit and a Wizard. Smaug will not know what hit him.)_

_\- end -_

**Author's Note:**

>  **Note:** I cracked again.  And somehow it became both prompts? 
> 
> If you’re wondering about the REAL ENDING, suffice it to say that THEY ALL DID LIVE Happily Ever After.  Um.  Just go look at the story before this one. ;)


End file.
